Blood Calls
by Granuaile the Pirate Princess
Summary: A college writer on a summer trip in Romania come across a man who isn't what he seems, and discovers that she isn't what she seems either. Bram Stoker's Dracula AU/crossover with other Dracula stories.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: This is a very confused fanfic, based on several different "Dracula" stories, but mostly on the Bram Stoker movie. As usual, Dracula is not mine, he belongs to history, Bram Stoker, and half a dozen other people.**

My friends had thought I was crazy, to choose a hiking trip in the Carpathians over summer at my friend's villa in the south of France. I suppose after my second night of sleeping in a wet tent I was apt to agree with them. But the sight in front of me as the sun rose above the rocky crags changed my mind. Poienari Castle, or at least what was left of it, stood on the opposite mountainside, overlooking the Arges River. I would make it to my destination by tonight, and I would sleep in the hall of Vlad Tepes, Dracula.

I'm a writer, a romantic, and a history lover. This trip was a pilgrimage of sorts, to find inspiration for what I believed would be my opus, a vampire novel. What better place to begin than the home of the original nosferatu? This was the thought that drove me as I lugged my thirty pound pack up the side of the mountain much later that afternoon. It was much farther from my starting point to the castle than I thought, and once again I was questioning whether this was worth it, or if I ought to just pitch my tent here and hire a horse in the morning.

Worth it or not, I kept trucking it up the mountainside, and was rewarded with the view of the sun setting over the canyon. All of the other tourists had left already, so I was left with just myself, my notebook, and the phantoms of my imagination. I spread out my bedroll and clicked on my flashlight and started on my story. I hadn't been writing for long when I felt a prickling on the back of my neck like I was being watched. I turned my head quickly and spotted a man creeping up behind me. I let out a little scream and scrambled to my feet, the dark and my surroundings making me jumpy.

He was tall, a handsome Romanian man of about his middle thirties, with burning blue eyes and long dark hair tied back at the nape of his neck. He was regarding me with a look somewhere between confusion and fascination. "Cine eşti tu şi eu , de ce eşti tu aici? »

My mind raced over the little Romanian I knew, trying to figure out what he'd said and put together my response. "I sînt un turist , un scriitor… Numele meu este Beth… uh, Beta."

His eyes got wider. "Elisabeta?"

I laughed a little. Even in another language people still asked that question. "Nu , chiar Beta. Vorbiţi englezeşte?"

He looked a little disappointed. "Yes, I speak English." He answered with a heavy accent.

I gave a little sigh of relief. "Good… my Romanian is very rusty, as I'm sure you noticed. Who are you? I thought I was up here by myself."

"I am… Vladmir, night caretaker. You are here to… write?"

I smiled. "Yes, I'm writing a vampire novel, and I figured this would be a good place for inspiration."

"This is not good place for young woman alone. Very dangerous."

I smiled wryly. "I've managed before." Just then it decided to start raining again. I groaned and began gathering up my things. "Great, now I get to sleep in a wet tent again. I'm sorry if I'm not supposed to be here, I'll just be leaving now."

"Nu, nu… here, follow me… I know somewhere dry." He picked up my pack like it weighed nothing and motioned for me to follow him. I didn't see that there was anything else I could do, so I did. Surprisingly enough, there was a door set off to the side of the crumbling structure, obviously put there by the tourist service. Vladmir opened it and walked inside and I followed.

He switched on an electric lantern, and I could see that we were inside a small restored chapel. I looked around, very touristy, and said, "Wow… I didn't even know this was here. It wasn't in the guidebook."

"Is usually only open to workers and professors, but is warm, and dry. That door goes to the catacombs." He motioned toward another heavy wooden door across the room. I must have looked alarmed, because he laughed. "Don't worry, the dead sleep quietly." He eased up next to me, grinning. "And the other things not so dead, I know personally, and they would not hurt you."

I chuckled nervously. "Well, I'm glad to have your assurance that I won't be vampire chow."

He looked at me oddly. "Chow?"

"Chow, you know, food… dinner." I made a hissing face and pantomimed fangs with my fingers.

He looked puzzled for a moment longer, then smiled and nodded. "Ah, I see, American word… Yes, you have my word that you will not be vampire chow this night. Make yourself comfortable, I shall return." He stepped back out the door, and I unrolled my bed again and lay down on top of my sleeping bag, using it as cushion from the hard stone floor. I had walked hard all day; I slipped into a deep sleep almost instantly.

I had odd dreams. I was soaking wet, as if I'd been out in a storm, and I lay under a thick fur blanket on a large bed. My clothes were somewhere across the room, drying by the fire. Vladmir stood by the fire, laughing, it seemed, at me as he dried himself off. "Elisabeta, I told you not to go out riding today. You knew it looked like rain."

In the dream this seemed completely normal. I sat up, clutching the blanket to myself with one hand and smiling at him. "Yes, Vlad, but if you knew it was going to rain, why did you go with me?"

He laughed and shook his head, stripping off his wet shirt and pouncing onto the bed. "So now we are both stupid and cold. Shall we warm each other up?"

I woke just before his lips touched mine. I was back in the chapel, but still lying under a fur blanket. I sat up, a little startled, and ran my hand over the blanket in confusion. "You looked cold." said an accented voice from across the dim room. I looked over and saw Vladmir looking at me as he shaved bits of a piece of wood away with a short knife.

I sighed, relieved. "Thank you."

"Is no problem. I must go now, my time is over. Shall I meet you here tomorrow evening and show you the castle?"

I had slid back under the blanket, still sleepy. "Sure." My eyes were already threatening to close.

"Until tomorrow then, Elis… Beta." Even as tired as I was, I noticed something. He left through the wrong door.


	2. Chapter 2

**author's note: I'm having so much fun with this story! As always, Dracula belongs to a lot of people, none of them me. Please read and review!**

I awoke early the next morning, thankfully before most of the other tourists filtered up to the ruins. I packed my things, plus the fur blanket that Vladmir had left, and hiked down the mountain stairs to one of the tiny villages between the castle and Curtea de Arges. I found a little pension there and rented a room, desperate at this point for a real bed and maybe a shower.

The very cold shower helped me come to my senses. I needed something to remind me that I was in the real world, not living in one of my stories where vampires exist and prey on stupid American girls. I scurried across the hall from the communal bathroom to my room wrapped in a towel, clean for the first time in three days. I slipped on one of the few nicer outfits I'd packed for this trip, a long peasant-ish skirt and a matching white blouse. Not exactly hiking clothes, but I could take a bus this time and give my poor legs a break, and I could look a little better this time when I saw Vladmir.

Now let me be clear, my parents didn't raise an idiot. I knew it wasn't smart going to a secluded place, after dark, in a strange country, with a man I didn't know. But my logic said that if he was going to rape me or murder me he would've done it the night before. Anyway, I could use a native perspective for my book, or at least that was the reason I kept telling myself I was meeting him again. A tiny voice in the back of my head kept saying that a nice skirt wasn't necessary for research, but I carefully squashed that notion.

After a good lunch, I hitched a ride with a group of female tourists from France on their way to the castle. I had a very nice conversation during the twenty minute drive, since my French is much better than my Romanian. I set off up the stairs, eager to get there before Vladmir and hoping to see which direction he came from, to satisfy my curiosity. Unfortunately, I learned the hard way that 1500 steps are much more difficult going up than going down. By the time I reached the top, I was glad that I hadn't gone completely girly and worn sandals instead of my sturdy hiking boots. I found a low bit of wall to sit down on as I waited for Vladmir to show up. I kept a careful eye on the stairs, figuring that's the direction he would be coming from. It was near sunset, so there were few people still lingering.

I was still worn out, so I must have closed my eyes for a few moments. When I opened them again, Vladmir was standing in front of me. I gave another strangled "eep" and nearly fell off the wall. Vladmir caught my shoulder and helped me steady myself, chuckling all the while. "Jeez," I exclaimed as I tried to slow my heart down again, "How do you always sneak up on me like that?"

He offered me his hand and I took it, standing up and brushing off my skirt. "You would not believe if I told you." He gave me an appraising glance, and I was suddenly very glad I'd taken the time to put on something nicer than jeans and a t-shirt. "So, there was beautiful woman under all that dirt. I suspected, but was not sure."

I blushed furiously, feeling even my ears turn pink as I looked away and smoothed back my hair nervously. "I bet the local girls just love you. Handsome and a flatterer." I looked back up at him, grinning and trying to turn it into a joke.

Vladmir made a very serious face at me and put a fist over his heart. "You wound me, Beta. I do not flatter, I tell truth." When this succeeded in making me blush again, he chuckled. "But now I have embarrassed you. Perhaps I should save truth for later and instead show you history?" He gestured around the ruins.

I giggled nervously. "Yes, some history would be nice. Where should we start?"

He gestured around broadly. "We start here. This was the great hall… where all the business of the province was done." He pulled me along behind him as he moved around the large open area, pointing. "Right here was a huge fireplace, always a large fire burning, heating the whole fortress. And here," he said as he sat down on a raised section of floor and drew me down next to him, "was where the prince and his lady sat and heard the peoples' complaints."

I giggled. "And, I suppose, where he sentenced criminals to become his newest lawn ornaments?"

He looked at me seriously, gazing into my eyes in a way that made me almost made me uncomfortable. "Yes, of course. But what he preferred to do here was to steal the occasional kiss from his beautiful wife…" He raised a hand to brush along my cheek, making me shiver a bit as his voice dropped to a seductive whisper. "Elisabeta…"

I was shaking as I whispered back, my eyes fixed on his lips, which were far closer to mine than they had started out. "You know, that's quite a coincidence… Vlad and Elisabeta… Vladmir and Beta…"

"I prefer to see it as fate." He said as he closed the distance between us and his lips finally met mine.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: Finally, another chapter. I'm having a little trouble with direction in this story, so its taking a bit of time. As always, Dracula is not mine. Also, I use a quote from one of my favorite authors, Laurel K. Hamilton, so please don't destroy me, copyright gods, I'm acknowledging.**

I kissed him back, the reaction more instinct than intent, as if I did this every day. The kiss deepened, and his tongue slid out to meet mine. I suddenly felt a slice of pain and tasted blood, and I froze. Vladmir pulled away quickly, and before I could say anything, he was gone. He didn't run away; he simply disappeared, poof!

I spat out the blood that was pooling in my mouth from the slice on my tongue, and I couldn't help but recall a quote from one of my favorite vampire novels: "If you French kiss a vampire, you risk tongue and lip injury." Thank you very much Anita. The evidence was mounting about who and what my handsome tour guide was, and the thing that was most unnerving to me was that instead of screaming and getting my stupid behind off this mountain and away from him, I was wondering where he had run off to.

I looked around, trying to see where he might have gone, although I figured he could probably be right there and I still might not see him. Who knew what he might be able to do? "Vladmir? Vlad? Are you still here?" I called, and received no answer. I sat back down in a huff. "Fine. Hide. I just hope you know it's a heck of a lot more unnerving having a vampire lurking in the shadows than to talk to him face to face." I looked around again, and for a moment I thought I saw a movement in the shadow of the chapel door. "Just for your information, I'm not leaving until I get some answers from you."

Vladmir (or should I say Vlad) separated himself from the shadows and moved toward me again, still keeping his distance. "Just for _your _information, Beta, you are a very stupid girl."

I shrugged as I continued to scowl at him. "I've been called worse. And you know what they say, curiosity killed the cat."

He sighed and glared back at me. "Fine. You wanted answers, so question." He sat back down on the step next to me, not looking terribly happy to be there.

I almost wished he'd stayed where he was; this close, he was a distraction. "Okay, first of all, I'm not crazy and you really are a vampire, right?"

"Those are two contrary questions; yes, I am a vampire, but yes, you are crazy, because you are still sitting there and talking to me like I couldn't have just torn open your throat."

I rolled my eyes. "You nicked me while we were kissing; I've had worse happen from high school guys with braces."

"But I would wager they never thought about how good you tasted."

"Point." I conceded. "Anyway, questions… I'm guessing that Vladmir isn't your real name."

"Close enough. I'm sure you've already guessed my identity."

I looked at him, considering. "Yes," I said slowly, "and that leaves me with one last question. Why haven't you had me for dinner yet?"

He looked a little uncomfortable. "That is complicated." He looked away for a moment, then turned back to me and held out his hand. "I must show you something."

I took his hand and stood, trying to ignore the tingly feeling in my fingers. He led me back to the door of the chapel and inside. He lit the gas lantern again and held it high. "Look there." I followed the glow of the lantern up to the ceiling, which was adorned by a huge painting of Vlad and, I could only assume, his wife. The face staring back at me was my own.

It was a strange feeling, looking up into my own eyes, outlined in ancient and chipping paint. I had a sudden flash in my mind of looking up at the same painting when it was new, the painters barely done. In this "memory" I turned to Vlad and gave him a crooked smile. "Isn't that a bit pretentious, setting the two of us among the angels?"

He looked back at me and pulled me close. "Not at all my dear, since you are already one of them, and perhaps with a little persuading God would allow me to follow you."

I snapped out of it and scowled over at Vladmir. "Would you stop doing that? It's creepy."

He looked back at me, genuinely puzzled. "Doing what?"

"Putting your memories in my head. You did it last night when I slept in here, and again just now. Just because I happen to look like your dead girlfriend doesn't mean I am her."

"I am doing nothing. What did you see?"

This was beginning to get too weird even for me. "You were showing me the painting for the first time, just after it was finished."

"Beta, Beta…" He moved closer and slid and arm around my shoulder. "If it were in my power to do so, I would share much better memories than that."

Suddenly my mind was filled with a very graphic memory; passion, warming a cold night. I jerked, willing the images to go away. "Ok, I get your point. Then why am I seeing these things?"

"I am not sure. Would you be willing to try something?" I eyed him dubiously, then nodded. He led me back out of the chapel, to the edge of the wall overlooking the Arges River. "Just look… and perhaps try to remember."

I stared out at the surrounding mountains, feeling nothing. But then I looked down.

The memories tore through me, cold and painful. Watching, waiting… a message from the enemy… my lover dead… and then a long, cold plunge into death. I screamed and fell, eager for the empty blackness that rushed up to meet me.


End file.
